


Brotherhood

by SansyFresh



Series: Fresh's Babble Collection [35]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mild Angst, No Romance, Platonic Cuddling, Platonic Relationships, alcohol consumption, mild anxiety
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-28
Updated: 2018-03-04
Packaged: 2019-02-07 22:48:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12851169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SansyFresh/pseuds/SansyFresh
Summary: A look into how a platonic Spicyhoney relationship might work.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lady_Kit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Kit/gifts).



> So LadyKit and I were talking about platonic relationships and how we enjoy them, even in absence of an actual ship. Read: Spicyhoney, but not romantic in any sense. So, I thought I’d give it a try since I’m in the mood, cause why not? 
> 
> Have a lil gift, Kit lol
> 
> Enjoy

Stretch lounged back fully on his ratty mattress, the small lumps and bumps in the old thing molded around his bony frame. It was a little more chilly in the room than he was used to, the insulation around his window needing replaced desperately. He thought about untangling the large ball of knotted sheets and blankets, but ultimately just kept his hoody on as well as a pair of sweatpants he’d found in the bottom of his closet. Well, that Blue had found in the bottom of his closet, but in the end it didn’t really matter that much who found them. What mattered was that they were found and were now keeping Stretch’s legs nice and toasty.

 

Just as he’d finally begun to drift off, the low, dulcet tones of the macarena began playing from his hoody pocket, the sound muffled but still clear enough to be annoying. Sighing, Stretch fished the piece of hard plastic from his pocket, checking the ID before flipping it open and pressing it to the side of his head.

 

“Hey asshole, what the fuck do you want? Some of us are asleep right about now, y’know.”

 

“We both know you weren’ sleeping, ashtrash.” 

 

Stretch frowned at the near shaky, tremulous sound of the other’s voice, Fell obviously not holding it together all that well if he was calling when he was this “weak”. Rolling his eyes at the thought, Stretch sat up, pulling his shoes over to him with his magic and slipping them on even as he spoke.

 

“What happened Fell?”

 

There was silence for a moment before the rough voice answered. “There’s nothin’ wrong, the hell do you-”

 

“Don’t bullshit me right now. I’m coming over. Unlock your door.” Stretch’s voice was no nonsense, his feet carrying him across the room and through the doorway to the stairs, taking them two at a time even as he tried to keep it down. Blue wouldn’t care that he needed to head over to Underfell this late at night, but he would be more than a bit grumpy if he didn’t get his full 9 hours of sleep. 

 

“You are NOT coming over, ashtrash! ’m fine, keep yer lazy ass in Underswap! I swear to Asgore you piece of shit, ‘re you listen’ to me?!” Fell’s shaky, obviously inebriated voice was still fairly shrieking as Stretch made his way around to the back of the house, the short puffs of breaths making small clouds as he went. 

 

“I’m listening, asshole. I’m still coming over.” Stretch unlocked the basement door with deft fingers, pocketing the key once more before closing and locking the door behind him, taking the steps down and flicking the light on as he went. The machine waited faithfully in the corner of the large room, the console uncovered and waiting for instructions.

 

“If you don’ fucking stay in yer universe I will kick yer ass, Stretch! I don’ need yer help!”

 

Stretch hummed to himself as he propped the phone between his skull and his shoulder, his hands busy typing out the coordinates to Underfell. “So you admit it. Something is wrong.” There was silence for a long moment before the signal cut out with a low beep, Stretch chuckling humorlessly as he pocketed his phone. Something was definitely wrong. Fell never called with that tone of voice when everything was fine and dandy.

 

The machine finally finished warming up, a small beep sounding its readiness. Stretch hopped in, shutting the door and pressing the final button to start the sequence, closing his sockets as the low rumbling turned to an all out roar. Soundproofing the basement turned out to be a good investment after all.

 

Soon the noise died down, the read-out panel on the inside of the machine declaring his arrival. As soon as he deemed it safe enough he pushed the door open and hopped out, a habitual shudder running through him at the dust covered boxes and piles of random scrap. Stepping over the crap that seemed to get higher every time he came to the Fellverse (he was 90 percent sure Red would just throw shit down here when he didn’t want to deal with it anymore), he took the steps up two at a time, unlocking the door and opening before slipping out into the dark, shoes crunching over the snow as he relocked the door and started for the front of the dilapidated house. 

 

Sure enough the front door was unlocked, Fell more than likely nearby should anyone overhear their call and use it to their advantage. Stretch slipped inside and kicked off his shoes, his eyelights flitting over the moderate disarray of the living room, a few couch pillows out of place and a few empty glass bottles scattered across the floor.

 

“Fell?” He called out, hoping that the edgelord was in the other room, rather than have done to stupid thing and run off when he realized Stretch was actually coming. Just as he was about to head back outside, a low hiccup sounded from the kitchen. Turning back with a sigh, he frowned as he made his way out of the living room, his steps quiet over the shag carpeting Fell and Red had installed some time ago. A first glance didn’t reveal anything, but as another hiccup sounded Stretch knelt down and found what he was looking for.

 

Fell was under the kitchen table, knees to his chest with his arms wrapped around them, his chin resting on his forearms as he gazed off into the distance. His eyelights were dilated and fuzzy at best, clueing Stretch in to just how drunk the other was. This would be fun.

 

“Hey, buddy, you wanna come outta there?” Stretch winced a little as Fell jumped, hitting the top of his skull on the bottom of the table and cursing as he rubbed at it, though his sockets widened as he took in the fact that Stretch was actually there.

 

“Why’re you here? I told you to...to stay home.” Fell turned away, frown deep. “’m fine.”

 

Stretch rolled his eyelights, using the fact that Fell had turned away from him to grab him under the shoulders, lifting him up and off the floor with a little difficulty, but overall the edgelord felt lighter than he should have been. Stretch filed away that concern for a later day, helping Fell stay on his feet as the two of them backed away a bit from the table.

 

“’m serious, ashtrash, leave me alone…” Fell’s voice petered off as he yawned, his hands trembling even as he pulled them to his face to rub at his sockets. Stretch waited for him to be a little more stable before he began walking the other out of the kitchen and towards the stairs.

  
“You know the drill, edgelord. You worry me, and I come over and take care of your ass. Stars know you don’t take care of yourself. Where’s Red anyways, that asshole should be here.” Stretch finally gave up and picked Fell up, hoisting him a little further with his magic as he made his way up the stairs. 

 

Fell seemed to look anywhere but Stretch, his eyelights dulling. “He’s been in Tale fer...a few days now? I think...I think he likes it there. Better ‘n here, I mean.”

 

Stretch didn’t miss the poorly hidden hurt and sorrow in his alternates voice. He’d have to talk with Red. “Well I’ll give him a call after we take care of you, make sure he’s still kicking.” 

 

Fell nodded, his head bobbing unevenly. Stretch couldn’t help but smile at the display as he pushed Fell’s bedroom door open with his foot, maneuvering Fell through the doorway before he entered and kicked it shut behind him. After setting his burden down on the edge of the bed, Stretch ruffled through his closet for a good pair of night clothes, something comfortable that Fell would actually be able to go to sleep in, rather than his leather pants and tank top. Once he’d found something acceptable, he turned back to Fell, who looked like he was about to fall over. 

 

“C’mon, let’s get you dressed.” It was simple to remove the tank top, as well as maneuver Fell’s arms and skull through the holes of the sweater Stretch’d found. The trouble came when it was time to remove and change his pants, the leather not wanting to get pulled off. Eventually he got them off, the pair of infernal leggings thrown to the corner of the room before the pair of sweatpants Stretch found were tugged up Fell’s legs and over his pelvis. 

 

“Okay, edgelord, get in the bed.” Stretch watched carefully as Fell did as he was told, climbing up and under the covers over to the side closest to the wall and allowing Stretch to climb in beside him, covering them both up to the chin. Stretch put up a lock on the door, assuring that no one would be getting in until it wore off. Then he turned, letting Fell tuck his skull under his chin, a small grin growing over his face as he heard the other sigh.

 

“thanks, stretch.” Fell’s voice was so small, so much smaller than Stretch was used to, but he knew the sound. It was the sound of a skeleton that had been through too much, that had finally given in under all the stress. It was unfortunately not the first, nor the last time he’d hear it.

 

“I got you Fell. Go to sleep.” Stretch listened as the other’s breaths slowly evened out, a slow whistle sounding on every exhale, and allowed himself to relax. It was going to be a long night.


	2. Burnt Toast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some peeps wanted a continuation of the next morning, so here we are ^^ This is still fully platonic.

Dappled light shone through the space between the wall and the curtain, shining across the bed in a thin line. Fell blinked sluggishly, his head throbbing faintly in the background as he slowly pushed himself up, arms folded underneath his chest. How did he get in bed? Realizing the clothing he was wearing were as baggy as they were comfortable, he wondered how the hell he’d managed to change himself. 

 

The last thing he remembered was chugging back a good sized bottle of whiskey he’d had stashed in the back of the closet. Had Red come home? The very thought made his soul clench, the stark loneliness he’d been drinking to avoid coming back in spades. 

 

Groaning, he shoved his face deep into his pillow, pulling the blanket pooled over the low of his back up and over his shoulders. The day could fuck off for all he cared. Everything could.

 

Just as he’d fully steeped himself back in his misery, a voice spoke from the door, startling him into nearly breaking his neck looking behind him.

 

“Time to wake up, asshole.” Stretch stood with his arms crossed, brows furrowed even as he smirked playfully. Fell gaped at him for a long moment, before the faint strains of a nearly illegible phone call drudged up from his memories of the previous night. Groaning, he let his skull flop back down, ignoring the light chuckle the motion got him. There were shuffling steps from the door to the edge of the bed, a heavy weight settling in beside him.

 

“C’mon edgelord, I made breakfast. Not even I can burn toast.” Stretch beckoned. Fell grumbled lowly, the noise turning into a growl as two hands landed on his shoulders, lightly shaking him back and forth. 

 

“Fuckin’ fine…” Waiting for Stretch to get his ass off the bed, Fell turned over, sitting up and rubbing at his face before glaring up at him. “You’ve burned toast more times than I can count, ashtray.” 

 

Stretch winked. “Well, if you don’t come downstairs I can’t wow you with my ability to  _ sometimes  _ make  _ not  _ burnt toast.” Turning to the door, he started down the hall, throwing a “Get your ass up!” behind him. 

 

Fell rolled his eyes, but stood up, checking himself and finding that he didn’t actually care enough to change into any of his regular clothes. These were comfortable and warm. Scratching the back of his skull, he made his way down the hall and down the staircase, following the scent of surprisingly good smelling food to the kitchen. His sockets widened as he found Stretch already seated and eating, his plate piled high with biscuits and sausage, all covered in gravy. A similar plate was set on the other side of the table, a glass of what seemed to be orange juice and milk placed beside it.

 

“This isn’t burnt toast.” Was the only thing he could think to say. Stretch laughed, shaking his head as he motioned for him to sit down, pushing a container of salt and pepper across the table as Fell sat. 

 

“I had Blue give me some lessons recently. Breakfast is about the only thing I’ve mastered so far.” Another wink. Fell rolled his eyes again even as he smiled, taking a sip of the rare orange juice before setting into his food. To his surprise, everything did indeed taste good, the sausage retaining a mild spice, the gravy hardy and thick, the biscuits fluffy and buttery. He glanced up, grinning to himself as he watched Stretch try not to give away that he was nervous or watching him for his reaction.

 

“It’s very good.” He smirked lightly as Stretch glared at him, a faint blush dusting his face even as they both began eating. 


End file.
